


Letting Your Hair Down

by sunlian



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, oooo heather back at it again w the merrihawke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 08:22:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16014056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunlian/pseuds/sunlian
Summary: Merrill thinks Hawke’s hair is very pretty, but she’s never seen her let it down.





	Letting Your Hair Down

**Author's Note:**

> Wow! My 25th fic!

The Hanged Man is usually a little too noisy for Merrill to spend extended periods of time there, but being with friends helps. Like now, she’s sitting rather comfortably between Hawke and Isabela, giggling at Varric’s latest tale and trying to remember the difference between a flush and straight before her turn comes around again.   
  
The freely flowing whiskey, courtesy of Varric’s tab, might also be helping.   
  
Merrill can’t decide on whether or not she’s braver when she’s tipsy, or that she has even less of a filter than she normally does. Certainly, she feels less hassled by the racket of the tavern, and she’s almost certain everyone at the table has noticed her trying to scoot her chair closer to Hawke. She’s also almost certain that she doesn’t care, because being next to Hawke is nice, and she wishes she could be next to her all the time.    
  
She should tell her that; Yasuko had been so stressed lately, taking any job she could. It was only after cajoling from Isabela, Varric, Bethany and herself that she agreed to take the night off for drinks and cards. But even here, despite the near-permanent smile on her face and the steady stream of quips and jokes only interrupted by the occasional bark of laughter, Merrill can see the tense set of her broad shoulders, how straight her back is. Very much the opposite of relaxed. What is it that Isabela had said? That this was ‘a chance to let her down for one blighted night?’    
  
Well, Yasuko’s hair was still very much up, in the familiar bun, face framed by her swept-to-the-side fringe and bangs.    
Actually, Merrill’s never seen her with her hair down. Ever. She’s certainly thought about what it might look like, or at least tried to. Sometimes she wonders if she ever takes it out at all.    
  
Sometimes, like right now.    
  
“Hawke,” she says, feeling a sudden weight on her tongue that wasn’t there at the start of evening. Hawke doesn’t hear her, so she tugs at the leather straps of her armour, “Haaaaawwkke.”   
  
Hawke turns, one eyebrow quirked in amusement, a smile playing on her lips.    
  
“Do you ever let your hair down, Hawke?”    
  
“That’s what I’m doing right now, isn’t it?” The tall human replies.   
  
“No no I mean,” Merrill pauses to hiccup, gripping Yasuko’s arm in surprise. Isabela’s arm reaches across and slides her mug away.   
  
“I think that’s enough for one night Kitten,” she remarks, mirth in her voice. Merrill doesn’t really mind; she’s talking to Hawke right now, and Hawke’s listening to her.   
  
“I mean, do you ever,” another hiccup, “let your hair down, Hawke.” Another hiccup, “Out. Down and out.”    
  
Merrill hiccups yet again, and as Varric waves down a glass of something non-alcoholic and somewhat clean, Hawke’s eyes, for the first time that night, seem bright, as vibrant as her laughter and focused on her. Goodness, it’s a good thing she’s already red to the tips of her ears.   
  
“Why yes, I do in fact, let my hair down from time to time.” Beside her, Isabela chuckles and turns to Bethany, saying something that makes her giggle, and she can hear Varric ruffling around for something, mumbling about taking notes.   
  
“Then whyyyy,” Merrill slurs slightly, lifting her chin up, “have I never seen it?”   
  
“Because I do so adore teasing you with it, of course,” she replies with a wink, tapping the tip of Merrill’s nose, just as the elf hiccups again, much to Yasuko’s delight, breaking into chuckles. The barmaid swings round with what looks to be a relatively clean glass of water, throwing the table a decidedly unfriendly look before placing it down.   
  
“You sssshhhhouldn’t tease Hawke. It’s not nice,” Merrill states, wiggling closer, essentially pressed into Yasuko’s side, craning her neck up to look at her. She looks pretty, a little bit flushed. 

 

“No, I suppose it isn’t. But it is very fun.”

 

She shows another brilliant grin, one that seems a lot sharper than any human smile should be, but Merrill hasn’t been smiled at by very many humans, except for Hawke, and also Isabela. 

 

In any case, Merrill pouts, mumbles something that she herself doesn’t fully understand, and hastily swipes her glass of water from the table, sipping at it as the conversation at the table continues. The fuzziness that has been flicking constantly at the edge of vision is overtaking the rest of her sight, but it’s not bad, especially when an arm wraps around her shoulders and squeezes lightly.

 

The voices mix and blur, but still familiar enough to be comforting, and a gloved hand takes her glass away (not that she minds, really. It was empty after all) and then the night starts to fade away, into a soft haze of warmth, muted voices, and a feeling of familiarity that Merrill hasn’t felt since she left her clan.

 

Maybe even a little bit before.

———

The knocking at her door is relatively soft, but it’s still entirely too loud for this time of the morning. Or for someone this hungover. 

 

It’s one of the reasons Merrill doesn’t really drink; she’s known for a couple of years that holding her drink isn’t something she’s particularly… good at. Something that becomes even more obvious around people like her new friends.

 

The last she really remembers is being woken up from where she’d fallen asleep, and carefully led home by the person she’d fallen asleep on. She’s at least 83% certain that she didn’t do or say anything embarrassing during that time. Probably. No, absolutely did not. Yes.

 

Rubbing the excess sleep from her eyes, she shuffles up to the door, wincing when she opens it and sunlight leaks through, though it’s mostly blocked by the broad-shouldered person standing the in the now-open doorway. 

 

“Oh, good morning Hawke…” Merrill trails off, partially because of a especially vicious throb in her head, and partially from mild embarrassment. Not exactly how she wanted to greet Hawke today; bleary-eyed and decidedly exhausted. 

 

“I’d say ‘good morning’ back, but it seems yours has been anything but,” she says with her usual humour and smirk. On any other morning, Merrill might’ve giggled, or said something dreadfully clueless before she realised that she was joking, and then giggled. This morning, however, all she can manage is a small groan, which is met by a sympathetic wince by Hawke. 

 

“Can I come in?”

 

She mumbles something in ascent, stepping back to let Yasuko in, before closing the door soundly behind her, making her jump and hiss ever so slightly, the noise making her headache spike again. Yasuko takes a seat at her table, watching her with mild concern as  she shuffles over to sit with her.

 

“I was going to ask you if you wanted to join me today, but-“

 

“Oh no,” Merrill cuts her off quickly, trying to blink her into focus, “The fresh air should be good for me. As long you’re not going to fight dragons or abominations today.”

 

“Well, I can’t guarantee anything, but I doubt we’ll run into that today. Just making a few deliveries around Lowtown and Darktown. Nothing life threatening.”

 

Merrill hums in agreement, focusing on Hawke. She doesn’t seem anywhere near as exhausted as she does; she seems as fresh-faced as she ever does, aside from… from something she can’t exactly place. 

 

Wait. 

 

“Hawke…. what did you did to your hair?”

 

Yasuko makes a questioning hum, tilting her head at her with a bemused little smirk.

 

“Ah, you noticed.” 

 

Her shiny black hair is loosely braided, draped over her shoulder. Her framing bangs remain resting over her shoulder. The bangs that frame her face are the same, but compared to the tight bun it’s positively relaxed and loose. 

 

“It’s um… it’s nice! Um, w-what made you decide to wear it… like that?”

 

“Do you not remember last night?” She asks, the little smirk curling into a bigger one, and Merrill can feel her cheeks heating up in response, “I thought about it, and you’re right; teasing someone for so long is obviously quite cruel, so…”

 

“Oh… really?” Even through her throbbing headache, a lightness bubble and rise in her chest at the thought of Hawke… listening to her? No, Hawke listens to her all the time- something she’s still getting used to as much as she treasures. Her brain ticks over, arriving at a conclusion that makes her heart even lighter, fluttering in cautious joy.

 

Did Yasuko… do this for her? Just because she mentioned wanting to see her hair down? She couldn’t have, but… well, it’s certainly nice to pretend that she did. It makes the light feeling in her chest flutter somewhat, rising even higher.

 

“It’s probably not what you meant but-”

 

“No, no, it’s lovely! I mean, yes I meant seeing it down but- well, that’s not practical is it?” 

 

“Well, no, I guess not,” Hawke shrugs, “so I went for a middle ground. I’m very glad you like it.”

 

“I… I like it very much!” 

 

———

 

“Hawke…?”

 

“Mmm?”

 

Merrill shifts in Yasuko’s arms, resting her chin on her naked chest. Hawke brings up a hand to brush loose strands of hair out of her face. In response, Merrill brings up her own hand, running her fingers through Hawke’s hair, free from its usual hairstyle, the black locks straight and silky to the touch. She leans into Merrill’s touch, humming at her ministrations 

 

“I really like your hair. Have I ever told you that?”

 

“Maybe once or twice,” Yasuko chuckles, “I don’t mind all that much.”

 

“Oh, I hope not, because I want to keep playing with it.”


End file.
